St Valentine's Day
by Sith Happens
Summary: Just a little snippet of what Valentine's Day might be like with the Saints of South Boston


**A/N: So Sithy is just getting back into the swing of things and I decided I really wanted to write a quick one-shot in honor of the holiday. Please don't be too hard on me guys, its been almost a year since I've written anything!**

**Hugs, Sithy**

**PS: I'm typing this on a Mac now so I hope the formatting works out okay!**

Shayla woke up in a flurry of motion, kicking and flailing her arms against the covers. She had been having a horrible dream about the last time Connor and Murphy had come home injured, only in her nightmare version there had been more blood and no survival. It took her only a few moments to realize that she was in her warm comfortable bed and not kneeling in the kitchen covered in the blood of the two men she loved most in the world, and with that, she flopped back down onto the bed, closing her eyes with a groan. She wasn't used to bad dreams. Blood, broken bones, gunshot and knife wounds, those she was used to, just not nightmares where she was powerless to save the people important to her.

Rolling onto her side, eyes still closed from drowsiness, Shayla reached beneath the covers across the bed in hopes of running her fingers along the broad, bronzed chest of her lover. Just the idea of his sun-kissed skin against the white sheets, or his sure, gentle hands against her skin had an urgent need rising inside her. But to her dismay, she discovered the bed beside her empty.

There was no use getting too upset, he had probably just gotten up to go to the bathroom or something, she told herself as she got out of bed. Stretching with a yawn, Shayla pulled on some pajamas and headed out into the kitchen to start the morning coffee. But someone had beaten her to the punch.

"Hey, Shayla," Jessie smiled from her position leaning against the counter. She was clad only in a tank top and shorts, making Shayla feel a bit overdressed in her t-shirt and her flannel pj pants. "I started the coffee already, but didn't know if you wanted anything else for breakfast."

"Coffee's just fine for now Jess, thanks," Shayla smiled back, extremely happy Murphy had found himself such a lovely woman. "Where are the boys at?"

Jessie was just turning back from pouring two mugs of coffee when she answered. "I saw Murphy for a few seconds this morning before he and Connor ran out. Said they had an important mission to take care of."

"What," Shayla practically bellowed. "They didn't tell me anything about this. Connor's always supposed to tell me in advance so that I can get medical supplies…"

"Shayla, Shayla, calm down," Jess soothed. "I don't think they're doing anything major. I didn't even really see them grab any guns. Could just be gathering information ore something. No big deal."

"Just going outside is dangerous for them," she countered weakly, sitting down at the kitchen table. "He still should've told me."

Both women lapsed into quiet then. It was an old argument that would probably never end until The Saints were no longer needed by a society that both feared and adored them. As the men went off to face down bad guys and kill the wicked and unrepentant, they left their women behind, the unheard of, the unseen, the often-silent support that kept them alive and in one piece at the end of the day. And it was all too hard on the women sometimes, knowing full well that one moment they could be warming their beds with their infuriatingly charming, deliciously sensual Irishmen, and the next moment pulling bullets out a body they had just been making love to.

The hours dragged on and the apartment felt exceedingly empty. Though Shayla and Jess enjoyed each other's company and had fast become friends, they both knew that the MacManus twins were a major part of their lives. Without them there, it was like having lost the sun and the moon. So the hours past, both girls occupying their time by watching movies together and discussing what should be made for dinner that night. Yet every time the floor creaked just outside the door, they found themselves looking up expectantly.

It wasn't until mid-afternoon that there was a sound of a hand on the doorknob. Jess and Shayla were up in a flash, both waiting to see what kind of injuries the boys had gotten on their outing. The first one through the door was the Moon, Murphy with his pale skin and dark features, carrying a big brown paper bag with a bunch of red roses just peaking out.

"You remembered," Jess nearly squealed, rushing over and wrapping her arms around Murphy's neck before kissing him.

"Aye," he chuckled. "D'ye think I'd forget such an important day? I got ye flowers and some a those nice chocolate-thingies ye like so much."

Murphy had started rifling through the bag to pull out everything he'd been talking about. Shayla looked at them both in confusion. She wasn't much good with keeping track of dates, so she wasn't sure what the occasion was off-hand. "What's the special day?"

Jess and Murph gave her quizzical, laughing looks just as the warm, Irish accent she loved so much answered. "It's St. Valentine's Day, ye silly thing."

The Sun strode in just then, Connor with his radiant glow that survived the winter cold, carrying a dozen white roses with a flush of red on each petal tip, his other hand carrying something covered with a blanket. The fact that he was walking under his own volition and seemed completely unharmed was enough to send Shayla's heart soaring, but his wide, gentle grin and the love in his voice nearly made her explode.

"Where have you been," she giggled, practically pouncing on him. "I've missed you so, so much."

"Took us hours and a trip all the way across town ta find what we wanted ta give ye girls," Connor replied, a bit annoyed as he put the blanketed secret on the table and turned back to Shayla with a smile. "Murph's got yer chocolates in that bog over there, but I wanted ta give ye these flowers meself. They're from that poem ye like so much. Happy Valentine's Day, love."

Shayla took the gift and gave a sweet, long kiss on the lips. When she pulled back, he had the slightest blush on his face along with his grin. The sound of Murphy clearing his throat drew their attention back to the other couple in the room.

"Maybe we should show the girls the other presents we got 'em," the pale twin suggested, his arm squeezing Jess's waist a little tighter.

Connor turned away and pulled that blanket off of whatever he had been hiding. "We figured we leave ye girls ta yerselves more than we like, and since it's not prudent fer us ta give ye bairns just yet, we'd get ye the next best thing."

When he turned back to face everyone, Connor had the smallest, cutest kitten in his left hand and the most adorable little puppy in his right. "We haven't named 'em yet. Thought ye two should do the honors."

In an instant, both girls had snatched up the little things, petting and cooing at them like babies. Jess held the kitten in her hands as she leaned up to kiss Murphy passionately, the kitty pawing at their cheeks. Shayla turned her eyes up to Connor and his brilliant smile, still cradling the puppy as she brought her lips up to his. She realized that moments like these, the love and the thoughtfulness were what made being the lover of a Saint worthwhile. And what better day to discover that then the day dedicated to the saint of love.

The End

**A/N2: Don't sue me if St. Valentine's Day isn't exactly the saint of love. It just sounded really good in my opinion haha -Sithy**


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